Troubled
by Latebloomnriter
Summary: Thoughts of Murdoch and Scott during the events of "Legacy."


**Troubled**

Thoughts of Murdoch and Scott during "Legacy." Includes some dialogue by Jack Turley.

Note: To the best of my knowledge and belief, this story is fair use of copyrighted material, as there is no commercial use and no loss of potential market or value of the original material will occur.

_Murdoch_

My father believed in having a trade to fall back on, no matter how prosperous a man may become. His own father was a blacksmith, who built a solid business which provided for a solid education for his children. My father in turn expanded the business, and we received even better educations as the children of a successful and respectable merchant. My father made certain though, that his sons could work the hammers and forge themselves, just in case the business faltered. I pound the iron now at Lancer, bending it to my will, and working out my anger. The metal yields as I strike it. I just wish it were Harlan's face.

Harlan is coming to Lancer. I try to hide how I feel about that, knowing why Harlan will be here. He wants to take and keep my son from me. Just like before.

_Scott_

I am relieved that Grandfather has at last accepted my invitation to Lancer. He will finally see for himself that I live in a fine home, and that Murdoch has built something to be proud of. I am confident that Grandfather will see the positive changes in me, quite different from the young rake whose once bright future was dimming into excess. I hope he and Murdoch can reconcile their differences. I will help with that.

I am eager too for Grandfather to meet my brother. How unfortunate that he didn't know about Johnny. I suppose that past is something I must also put aside, and think of the future.

I have regaled Johnny with stories of Boston and Grandfather, and he has listened with such grace and forbearance that I wanted to acknowledge his indulgence.

"I realize I've talked my ass off."

Johnny cocks his head to one side and peers around me. "That what happened to it?"

_Scott_

Julie. After over a year of refusing to acknowledge my messages and Boston, and letters from California, she is here. I couldn't help embracing her and lifting her from the ground, and she actually responded. It looks like I am forgiven. Perhaps we have a future after all.

I needed her desperately at one time. She was beautiful and calm, so sleek and polished that she seemed to effortlessly cleanse the filth from my soul, even as I thoroughly scrubbed my person in the flesh. That was how prison and the war had marked me. It seemed that Neptune's oceans would never wash me, until Julie. We enjoyed the best of Boston and other great Eastern cities, art, theatre, and discussed endlessly literature and history. We were very well suited, or so it seemed until the quarrel.

I cannot blame Julie for that. I was arrogant enough to think that it was completely acceptable to continue visiting certain establishments, overindulge, throw some fists, during a lengthy engagement until we were married. She did not agree. Our previously bright future darkened abruptly, snuffed out, before I left Boston.

I hope the flame can be relit. She will love Lancer, I'm sure.

_Murdoch_

"All right Harlan, what do you want?" I didn't really need to ask. I suppose I wanted to hear him admit it, so I could confront him. Enough of these games.

I made my pact with Harlan. Scott is his own man. He must choose his future. He will do so without interference from either of us-no more anyway from Harlan, bringing that girl from Scott's past here. She strikes me as no Catherine. She will never love Lancer. But what of Scott?

It terrifies me inside. Scott has so many gifts, is capable of so much, that I worry about Lancer not being enough to hold him here. And what of his family? Have I earned his love? He is so forgiving; I have seen that, and gives so much of himself, sometimes to his own peril, to help others. He loves his brother, I have no doubt, and I believe Teresa also. If I asked him to stay, I think he would do it, to please me and the others, but would it be to his detriment? No. I must let him decide what he most desires. I must think of him, what would keep him whole and not tear him apart, as I did that terrible time twenty years ago. I will say nothing.

_Scott_

Julie balks again at marrying me. She questions me about Murdoch, how I said I hated him, and that he didn't care. I defend him. He does care, I insist. I feel that flame being relit, not of the love between Julie and me, but those sparks of doubt igniting. If my father cared for me, why did he never come for me?

_Murdoch_

"What took you so long?" My relationship with Johnny has grown so much. Early on, he would never hesitate to be hostile and challenging, but this time he questions tactfully and slowly. He is worried for his brother, and, I think, wants to ensure Scott has some answers.

"I tried.." The memories come back to haunt me. I see again the plain mound of earth which was once my lovely Catherine, and hear the midwife describe how her care was refused by Harlan, leaving my wife untended, and my son whisked away. The memories sicken me still, even though my son now lives with me, as he should have growing up. For now, anyway.

I think then to my arrival five years later in Boston, finally with enough money and a safe home for Scott. Such a fine little boy, with Catherine's heavy lidded eyes. I hold his tiny hand lightly in mine, resisting the urge to stroke his hair and run a finger down his cheek.

Harlan thwarted me, threatening to drag my son through the courts to retain custody. I left in shock, and tried to calm myself and plan a strategy to recover my son. As I considered it further, and even talked to an attorney, it seemed hopeless.

I never gave up the dream that my son would live and work with me at Lancer, though my active efforts to accomplish this were limited. It seemed easier to delay contacting an adult Scott, and maintain the dream that he would one day work beside me at Lancer, than to reach out and face the reality that he might want nothing to do with me. It was only after being shot that I sent the Pinkertons with my offer.

Scott wants to know why I never claimed him. It takes all of my strength to keep from bursting out with the truth of his grandfather's threats. I could not waver. I was determined to keep my word.

"But you were my _father." _A man would have to be made of steel not to react to that and want to offer reassurance. I am not made of steel. I felt as if my guts were being torn out of me in the most excruciating way possible.

I still did not answer.

_Scott_

Murdoch's hands grip my arms, and he pleads not to let anger make the decision, and that my home will always be here, too. I fight again to keep my composure and not take hold of him. I win the battle.

My father has no answers for me. I must forgive him his error and the hurt of those past years. Who has not wanted to put the past behind, though it can mark us so strongly? In his way, I do believe he cares for me and wants me now.

Julie is leaving. I am angry, though find myself not very shocked that Grandfather has resorted to such coercion. I respect Julie for her integrity in telling me. I wish she had let me know earlier. I would have helped her father.

Grandfather was not yet finished with me this night. I listen with increasing alarm as the unsavory Degens tell me their story of how Murdoch killed their father, a crime for which he never paid. I do not believe it. Murdoch is no cold blooded murderer. The sight of Grandfather relishing the tale sickens me. The worst was to come.

In exchange for my return to Boston, saying nothing of how the decision was made, Grandfather will ensure that the tale is never revealed. I must agree to the terms immediately.

My mind is reeling with this. While I do not believe it, there could still be great harm to Murdoch's reputation. I will not risk that. There might even be a trial, and a powerful man like Murdoch has enemies who covet his possessions.

I am one of those possessions, coveted so fiercely by my grandfather that he resorts to this. And my father? It does not matter that the depth of my feeling for him is unrequited. I will do this to protect him and leave the new home, family, and life I have come to love. This is the definition of love, is it not? It is to care more for someone than for oneself.

_Murdoch_

I have failed. Despite my efforts, our little family of me, Johnny, and Teresa, and the promise and beauty of Lancer neither holds the sufficient attraction nor meets Scott's needs. I had kept my promise to let Scott make his own decision. He has done so. I barely register Harlan's gloating while my world is torn apart again.

Johnny pauses before following his brother to give Harlan the look that I feel. What I imagined doing to Harlan with my hammer and anvil, Johnny does with his eyes. His eyes do to Harlan what his pistol did to many men in dusty streets.

Scott refuses to give Johnny any more answers. My son is leaving.

_Scott_

It is only the need to protect Murdoch that keeps me from losing control. Teresa is in tears. Johnny is still angry at my refusal to explain, biting off the profanity at my declaration that I am not cut out for ranch life.

I hope they will visit me in Boston.

_Murdoch_

Johnny will not accept the decision, nor my desire to let Scott choose without any interference. Neither my reason nor Scott's actions are enough for him. He rides off, perhaps to drink or fight away the hurt and anger, or seek some answers on his own.

I'm afraid he will be disappointed.

_Scott_

Grandfather is well pleased with himself. He speaks as if nothing serious has happened, and we will return to the life we had before. I set him straight at what he has done to our relationship. My mind is clearing from the shock of this last day. I am thinking again.

_Murdoch_

I am bewildered at first at Johnny's tale. I was cleared of the killing of Degen years ago. Then I understand. Harlan told only part of the tale to Scott to force his hand to leave. Thank God for Johnny's sense that there was more to this story.

What I fool I was to trust Harlan! I remembered berating Scott for his misplaced trust in the McGloins, and here I am making a similar mistake. The instinct to trust is something else I have in common with my son.

I was wrong too in thinking I had not earned a place in his heart. He has shown his love for me, his family, and Lancer by making a supreme sacrifice in removing a threat to us. I never will have that fear of losing Scott again. He is fulfilled and happy here.

The knowledge and faith of this truth moves the mountain of fear and doubt from me. I have felt a determination like I have rarely felt before.

"Come on, Johnny. Let's go stop a train."

_Scott_

So you take me at my word, Grandfather, to live the remainder of our lives in Boston? I made a promise, yes, but a promise made under such duress does not deserve to be honored. You taught me well, Grandfather. I will make enquiries and seek legal advice about Murdoch's situation. I will find a way out of this, Grandfather, while seeming to be your semi-obedient grandson. I will make sure that you lose the power to threaten Murdoch or anyone else in my family, and I _will_ return home to Lancer.

The shot and searing pain in my head strike me together. I became used to ducking and dodging in the war, and my action and the injury sent me over the side of the buckboard. My last memory was flailing against someone's arms.

_Murdoch _

I was terrified at first at the sight of Scott on the ground. Johnny was holding him, trying to keep him still. Thankfully the wound does not seem serious. I directed Johnny to take Scott to safety while I went after Harlan. I had to do it, otherwise I think I would have lost control over the worry of the last few days and relief just now.

How ridiculous Harlan looked, with that tiny gun to protect himself in our uncivilized wilderness. He seems unusually small to me now.

"I've got no troubles Harlan. Not anymore." Truer words were rarely spoken. I know I have won my son's heart. He is his own man, and he chose me, his family, Lancer, and all that goes with us.

_Scott_

My mind was hazy for a time. My head hurt, and I knew I fell to the ground, and was held close by someone. Johnny? My first clear thought was the realization that I was back at Lancer in my own bed.

Murdoch sat beside me, and smiled. I saw a look on his face like he wore at no other time. I never thought I would see such a look on the face of my intense, driven father. It was a look of contentment. A look of love too, for me.

"Grandfather-" I have to ask. I never want to live with him again, but I could never wish him physical harm.

"Your grandfather is fine." Murdoch is calm but firm. "I was cleared of any wrongdoing years ago in the Degen matter. You, my son, should not have kept it to yourself." He smiled. He is usually only so soft around Teresa. It is safe for him, I suppose, to show his love for her. Now in private he shows it to me.

"We will have that long overdue talk when you're feeling stronger. I will tell you all you want to know. Some of it will be painful, but perhaps not shocking. You will know that I mean it when I say how much I always wanted you."

I manage a smile back. Murdoch pats my arm. "I'll bring you some broth, then you can go back to sleep."

I watch him leave and agree that he is right. We will have that talk, and I believe that I will finally have those answers from my father. Father. If the talk goes as I think it will, I will call him that, at least this one time. Under the circumstances, "Father" seems highly appropriate.


End file.
